Merry Mended Hearts (Santa’s Radio Christmas Romance #1)

10. Boone

BOONE

My anger seethed as I watched Grace storm away. Every step she took cooled the fire in my chest, though, and I could have sworn steam emitted from the coals.

I hung my head. Once again, my emotions had gotten the better of me. I wasn’t even entirely sure what I’d said to her.

Troy’s father wasn’t doing well. We still hadn’t found anyone to stand in as the other sleigh driver on Christmas Eve—and it was coming faster than I wanted it to. And I still needed to go into town to get a few things to see me through the holiday.

You know, food.

Normally, by this time, I had Hazelnut prepared in the barn by the cottage. My fridge was stocked. And I was bunkered down, ready to shut out the rest of the world for a few days.

But tensions were high. Junie was doing more than her usual share—and she wasn’t the only one.

Adding a beautiful woman into the mix wasn’t helping.

I didn’t know what it was about Grace, but she was awakening something inside of me, something I wasn’t ready to face yet. Every time she was around, it was like a new part of me came to life. She was dynamite, strategically placed around my carefully crafted borders so that every time our eyes caught, another explosion went off, tearing those defenses down.

And I didn’t like it. I didn’t like the way she made me feel. The way she made my heart pound in ways it hadn’t done in years. She was the Dorothy to my Tin Man, squirting her little oil can against all my stiff joints and forcing movement there again.

Movement I wasn’t ready for.

The shipment of veterinary supplies, a part for the sleigh, and the new tack I’d ordered was vital…but not enough for me to bring out my inner snapping turtle.

I’d reacted. Plain and simple. My mind was in a thousand places at once. The sight of Christmas being shoved in my face at every turn didn’t help. Junie had insisted on placing decorations near the barn. Anyone coming here would think the candy canes the profusion of lights were my idea.

“We’re known for being Christmassy. The customers need a treat from every angle,” Junie had insisted.

Like always, I grumbled and went along with it. Because that was my job.

Gripping the box, I headed toward the open barn door, veered through past the bins of hay and feed, and set the package on the wooden table that also hosted various jars of remedies for the horses’ ailments.

I was no veterinarian, but I knew a few herbal remedies for helping heal colic and other things horses faced. This shipment contained oils and herbs for the horses—and those weren’t exactly cheap. I cut across the tape sealing the box together while regret seeped into me.

“Expensive or not,” I mumbled, opening the box, “I shouldn’t have bitten her head off.”

Uncertainty stole over me one layer at a time. This wasn’t the first time I’d snapped at an unsuspecting recipient. I’d never been short-tempered before, but it seemed like more and more, anger was becoming my default setting. My recent conversations with Junie about the radio attempting to match me up with Grace didn’t help.

Why anger, though? What about me had changed? I’d only done what I could to keep to myself. To deal with Amy’s passing.

I was gentle and careful with the horses and with the children who came to the inn. But I’d gone and lost it on Grace not once, or even twice, but three times now. First, over the room, then the necklace, now this.

She must think I was a total bear.

I shook my head at that thought. What did I care what she or any other woman thought of me?

I didn’t care. I couldn’t. Especially not about her.

Once the supplies were put away, I got the keys to Aunt Meg’s truck and drove down into West Hills. It took some scraping to get all of the ice off of the windshield since we didn’t park the pickup in a garage or anything like that.

The drive down the mountain didn’t take as long as it did while steering the sleigh, which I often did to pick up guests who’d taken the shuttle from the airport in Billings to the tiny tourist town. The liked the full experience, as Junie called it. They were charmed by the fact that a horse-drawn sleigh was their transportation to an inn that the website claimed was America’s North Pole.

Guests ate up the story of Santa and the radio. Because the whole ordeal was outlined on the website, it often surprised me when guests arrived not knowing the origins of the radio or even its significance. It made me wonder if Grace knew.

She hadn’t said anything about it when the two of us had heard it play. And she’d seemed completely surprised to hear it when I’d been telling that small girl a few days ago. Had she not looked at the website for Harper’s Inn at all?

In any case, she was on my mind as I made my way to the small grocery store. The store didn’t quite fit the touristy feel of the other small shops along West Hills’ main street. It was too conventional, too modern, but I was glad it was there.

I picked up a carton of eggs, some bacon, produce, and a few steaks, as well as lunch meat, cheese, and bread. It wasn’t the gourmet food I’d find if I’d just do what Junie wanted and stay at the inn to help her with the guests.

Mason Devries knew how to cook, that was for sure. And he always put his talents to the max. But solitude was better. It was what I needed. Junie had to accept that.

With several grocery bags in hand, I made my way back out to the brown pickup only to pause. Across the street, where I usually parked the sleigh to pick up guests to take them up to the inn, was the gift shop.

I wasn’t sure what came over me. This wasn’t a place I typically frequented. It wasn’t like I needed t-shirts or keychains with the town name of West Hills on them. But still, the urge was there.

So I left the groceries in the pickup, crossed the street, and strode into Nick’s Nacks.

The place looked the same as it had the last time I’d come in. A table offering plush animals sat in the center, surrounded by stands of t-shirts and sweatshirts, displays offering postcards, keychains, and other things tourists usually like to pick up to commemorate their visits.

There was a new display near the front window, though, This one had a bear wearing a Santa hat and holding up a sign inviting people to check out America’s North Pole. In front of the bear there were several t-shirts with radios on them, others with pictures of cartoonish Santa Clauses and declaring the words, “I Believe.”

“That’s new,” I muttered, making my way to the displays.

But not why I’d come in here. I couldn’t get Grace something kitschy like that.

That thought stopped me in my tracks. Wait. What just came through my mind?

Get Grace something?

That thought made my heart tromp like a whole herd of spooked horses. It almost made me bolt for the door, go back to my truck, and duck up the mountain with my tail between my legs.

Why shouldn’t I get her something, though? The truth was, I’d been a jerk to her. I didn’t know how she’d gotten that locket, and there was no way she could have known its significance to me. Even though she wouldn’t be staying at the inn long, I needed to make it right.

“Anything I can help you with, Boone?” Quinn asked from behind the register.

I waved to the woman, ducking my head, and shaking it all at the same time. “No, thanks. Just looking.”

Steeling my nerves, doing my best to play this off like I came into the gift shop every day, I began perusing. T-shirt? No. Not stuffed animals, either. I didn’t want to get her chocolates. I could get a nice card and write out my apology.

But even that sounded stupid in my head.

Dear Grace,

Sorry I was a jerk.

And how would I even sign it? Just my name, probably.

Nah. That was weaksauce. I might as well just mutter an apology in passing, which I didn’t want to do, either.

I paused near a table offering stacked displays of scented candles. Pulling the lid from one labeled Cozy Fireside , I inhaled the sweet smell of cinnamon and woodsmoke, only to put the lid back on it once more.

No, not candles. That felt too weird. It just…wasn’t it .

Except, I didn’t know what it was.

Aggravated, I glanced around the gift shop, looking at the t-shirts, the bottles of jam stacked near the register, and my eyes settled on the display of Christmassy items near the front once more. Snow globes with the name West Hills, Montana, on the front, little notebooks, pens, and festive thermoses with twinkling lights on them.

There was a Christmas tree behind the bear wearing the Santa hat, and little ornaments covered the tree. Some were glass baubles, while others were more detailed. Through the pairs of skis, the mittens on hooks, the snowflakes my eyes were drawn to one ornament in particular.

A horse-drawn sleigh.

It was like a fist seized my heart at the sight of it. I crossed to the tree and pulled the sleigh ornament from its branch. Oddly enough, it was the only one on the tree.

I stared at the red sleigh, at the tiny resin harness holding it to the brown horse in the front, and the fat green ribbon strewn through an eyelet to hang it from a tree.

This was it. Would Grace accept it? Would it matter if she didn’t?

Closing my fist around the ornament, I made my way to the register.

“Where did this one come from?” Quinn said, examining the ornament from all sides.

“You haven’t seen it before?”

“It wasn’t part of the inventory,” she muttered. “But it’s so cute!”

“Yeah. I kind of need to get going so can you…?”

Quinn laughed. “Of course! There’s no price tag, but let’s say $15.99. That’s what the others are.”

“Sounds good,” I mumbled, pulling my wallet out and handing her my card.

Quinn reached for one of their signature brown paper sacks with the Nick’s Nacks logo on the side, but she paused. “Do you want this gift wrapped?”

Did I? It was a gift, after all. I wasn’t sure how or when I’d give it to Grace. It would have to be before tomorrow since I wasn’t bound to see her through the actual Christmas holiday.

“Yes. Gift wrap it.”

“You got it.”

Humming cheerfully, Quinn turned to the wrap table behind the register. She placed the ornament inside of a box and began adorning it with red paper, topping it off with a glittering green bow.

“There you go!” she said.

“Thanks,” I muttered, swiping the small box from the counter and storming out of there before I did anything else stupid like buy a souvenir t-shirt or something.

Snow had begun falling, drifting lazily down to the ground. The sun would be setting soon. I needed to get back up to the inn, get Hazelnut taken care of, and get on my way.

But I still needed to find a way to give this to Grace. I wasn’t sure how to explain

Maybe I could have Junie give it to her…

No. That would defeat the whole purpose. I’d just have to find a way to give this to Grace before I left for the cottage. And with the sun setting as early as it did, that had to be sooner rather than later.